


Ikigai

by lackluster_wonder



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Memories, Elrond is so done, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Lindir got himself a mentor, Maedhros didn't ask for this, Maglor being a Mother Bear, Minor Elrond/Lindir, Multi, Puppy Love, The Author Regrets Nothing, except maybe it took her three months to gift it, expressive elven ears!, it will make all sense once everything is updated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:41:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackluster_wonder/pseuds/lackluster_wonder
Summary: Maglor visits Imaldris in secret while the Lord of the Valley is hosting Thorin and his company. He comes across a very worn out Lindir trying to dwarf-proof Elrond's private study, to whom he shares some fond memories of Elrond's childhood.** EDIT: Need of beta. The previous beta cannot commit **





	1. Unexpected Guests

**Author's Note:**

> **IMPORTANT PLEASE READ:** This fic is inspired by idahlrillion’s fan art of [Maglor in Imaldris conversing with Lindir in tumblr.](http://idahlrillion.tumblr.com/post/145570681182/maglor-fondly-shares-childhood-stories-of-elrond)
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> The characters will be described based on her version of the characters, so it helps if you are familiar with her art. Here is her [concept sketch I requested of Elrond and Lindir in her style as they appear in the story](http://idahlrillion.tumblr.com/post/146657433842/for-lunarlumina-elrond-is-in-his-very-fancy)
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> I haven't written anything original or fandom wise for almost four years, so advance apologies to, well everything. I just want to write fluff.
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> Most of my knowledge is derived from the movies, the outbursts of my friends who are tolkien enthusiasts. I pretty much got seeped through fandom osmosis.
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> Standard disclaimer apply. I am not making profit of this. 
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> Um, hopefully you all enjoy and please be gentle, thanks

"The kitchen's under enormous strain, we are almost out of wine." Lindir reported, trying to match his Lord’s pace, a ledger book tucked in one arm, walking in long stride, side by side as they took a turn towards the right, heading out towards the gardens and by the fountains. 

"How long do you think they will be with us?" he asked nervously, he tried not to sound worried, but he felt their supplies will run out in less than two weeks at the rate of how their guests are going. He squinted a little when he noticed what seemed to be specks of the food served from earlier, caught on his Lord Elrond’s head dress.

Lindir sighed internally, he would do anything for his Lord, whether he requested it or not, but the head dress would be complicated to clean as it is to wear. The teardrop shaped aquamarine crystals in varying sizes look fragile enough, interwoven within veil-like multi-stranded gold chains, crowning his Lord Elrond’s luxuriously thick, dark brown mane. He cringed as he recall the banquet from moments earlier, when one of the younger dwarves deliberately threw a good serving of mashed potatoes for fun, almost maiming him at the right shoulder and almost just above his Lord’s head.

"That has yet to be decided..." 

He is tempted to reach and brush the specks off his Lord Elrond's hair, but held himself quick as they made their turn towards the fountain. They start to hear loud messy splashes and boisterous laughter. His Lord slowed down his pace, back straightening until they both came into a complete stop.

Lindir swallowed nervously as he followed his Lord Elrond's steady gaze towards the fountain. He can't help the whimpering sound that escaped his throat: he thought he have kept most of the damage the dwarves have been causing under control, but apparently he was mistaken.

Elrond stepped forward, surveying the scene in front of him with sheer disapproval, tight-lipped, eyes narrowing and a small frown marring his impassive features. 

Lindir is momentarily at loss of words, and Elrond, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back, tilted his head minutely to listen closer for any further reaction. Within his peripherals, he noticed how his attendant’s ears twitch violently under his russet brown curls before flattening threateningly low at the sides of his head, as his wont when he gets visibly apprehensive. If Lindir isn’t stressed, Elrond would find that certain tick of his adorable, as it fondly reminds him of a cat that is about to bolt. He is young still, and despite his outwardly calm veneer, still prone to such involuntary reactions.

Seeing that his attendant won’t respond any time soon, he turned to face him. Lindir is, indeed, still firmly rooted on the spot, gazing past his shoulder with widened and anxious eyes. The tight white knuckled grip on his ledger looked painful and he starts to tremble underneath his burgundy and gold robes, the piercings on his ears starts to make light rattling sounds and it is all what Elrond needs to see to know that Lindir is on the verge of breaking.

“Lindir.”

Lindir snapped up and faced him, realizing that he is being spoken into, ready to politely offer his apologies when Elrond lifted a hand to halt him, his demeanor calm and understanding, “You can now take your leave, see to the servants making preparations for the rooms of our guests.”

“But, my Lord...”

“I insist,” he persisted, “and there will be no excuses.”

Lindir opened his mouth to reply, but they were both disturbed by a sudden loud crash and more howls of laughter from the fountain. They both turned back towards it, and was greeted by the view of one of the dwarves standing proud and naked as the day he is born, yelling about being the “King of the Rock” as everyone cheered, and Elrond have never seen Lindir’s face shift in several shades of red and purple in fast succession.

Lindir starts gaping like a fish out of water, both shocked and revolted at the shameless display, as he tries to find words to reprimand their rude guests.Worrying for his state, Elrond made the decision and quietly clasped his attendant's shoulders, and in one swift motion, spinned Lindir around towards the opposite direction.

His attendant let out a squeak of protest, reluctant to leave his Lord alone to deal with such rambunctious company and almost dug his heels to the ground, but also knew better than to argue with him and allowed himself to be firmly pushed away. 

“I will have another meeting with Mithrandir this evening. You can finish your duties for tonight, and you can take your leave of rest for tomorrow, if you want.” he reassured Lindir with a firm pat on the arm, only to flinch to the loud whoop followed by messy splashing sounds from the fountain.

“My lord, you need not to worry, I am alright. I could perform my duties for tomorrow.” Lindir insisted, seeing his Lord Elrond's concerned expression. He could feel his cheeks heat, inwardly cursing himself for his inability to reign in the outward manifestations of his emotions, he is certain that his Lord Elrond saw him color at the scandalous sight of the dwarves. “At least allow me to send someone else for you.”

He nodded curtly, conceding to Lindir’s wish. 

Lindir bowed his head, murmuring regretfully his apologies before taking his leave. Hopefully, he could find an experienced servant or two who could take on his duties briefly and, for Eru’s sake, keep those dwarves from desecrating other areas.


	2. Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindir found an unexpected guest in his Lord's private study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ikigai - Japanese concept meaning "a reason for being". Everyone, according to the Japanese, has an ikigai. Finding it requires a deep and often lengthy search of self. It seems apt for Mags :3

Under the dappled moonlight under the clearing of the towering willow trees, the cloudless night’s soft luminous rays softens Elrond's profile from where he stood. He already changed with the clothes Lindir prepared for him, the style and make is more similar to those what his sons usually wore: the restrictive and heavy layers of his brocaded gray and turquoise robes were replaced by a loose pair of harem pants cut just above his ankles and deep blue flats, a simple high-collared long tunic with silver embroidered embellishments that fit to his form, accentuating his still- toned physique from the centuries of his youth spent as a warrior. Lindir observed quietly as he finished the look by pulling over a gossamer-thin sleeveless robe to drape his broad shoulders, it is made from a new fabric material imported from the recent trade with the woodland kingdom, and it seems to trail and flow like a gentle stream with his Lord's confident and graceful movements. The muted and calming colors made him appear carefree, unburdened, and younger by years, if not almost the same age as his children. The complicated headdress that marks his status as the Lord of the Valley is replaced by a simple single-row headpiece and the rest of his dark hair is left unbound. 

He turned around to a long curving pathway leading to the council hall to meet with Mithrandir, Lindir can’t help but feel proud of himself---having personally selected and mix and matched the coordinate, it turns out to be rather aesthetically pleasing: the way the fabrics varied shades of blue to near white through aquamarine and gray-blues, all overlapping each other, reminds him of the blue-grey songbirds that visits Imladris every summer.

He was so lost in reverie that Lindir almost jumped when he felt a rough tug on his sleeve. He looked down, and was greeted by a grinning dwarf with a ridiculous floppy hat. It was the same dwarf who interrupted the meal from earlier by jumping over the long table, stomping and singing to a loud and bawdy ditty. Lindir can feel the heat rise on his cheeks as he remembered all the broken plates that needs to be replaced and the food wasted, all crushed and stomped underneath those large cumbersome boots before a food projectile nearly hit him on the face.

“A fine evening, isn’t it?” the dwarf drawled, tilting his hat up, his dark brown eyes twinkling, pre-offering a gloved hand. When Lindir make no motion to take it, he introduced himself, making a quick bow with his funny hat and putting it back again. “The name is Bofur, and you master elf...?”

 

“Lindir.” he gritted out, “What brings you out this fine evening, master dwarf? The r-”

“Bofur.”

“Master Bofur,” Lindir huffed, composure be damned, he have been worn out by their group for the rest of the day. “The rooms are on the opposite of this wing, surely you have no business here, unless you are looking for my Lord Elrond, then you are late. He have left for a council meeting few minutes ago.”

“Oh no, that is not the case, Master Lindir.” He beamed, “In fact we were looking for you! We would like to know if we could have some more wine. The lads have taken all those tall large glasses and there is no more left for the rest of us.” 

_Those are carafes_ , he wanted to correct him, his ears twitching. “Unfortunately, Master Bofur, our supply of wine have _completely_ ran out earlier and I have yet to be informed when the next shipment will arrive. If there is nothing else, then I would have to take my leave. I have yet duties to attend to.” Lindir lied, but for the sake of the plumbing and the fountains of Imaldris, he won’t offer any more wine than what his Lord Elrond told him to.

He made a hasty retreat, but much to his dismay, the dwarf persistently starts to catch up, matching his long swift strides by jogging beside him. “Are you sure? There seems to be barrels of wine being rolled by the pantry, downstairs.”

“Those are exclusively for the Lord’s family, no one is allowed to have it except them. ”

“Surely, they won't mind if it's only one barrel.” 

“Yes they _will_ mind, and I will be the one who will answer for it if any of it goes missing!” Lindir snapped, glaring down at the dwarf, only to stop abruptly at the sound of a loud whistle.

“Hey,” another dwarf emerge from the corridor they passed by earlier. This one having the most obscure hairstyle of the lot, braided and formed to resemble a star. “Did you get us the wine?”

“Naw, the only ones left are for the Lord's family.”

“--is that FURNITURE?” Lindir almost shrieked, seeing in his horror, wooden legs and arms of what used to be a lounging chair.

“Used to be a furniture, to be exact.” The star shaped haired dwarf quipped, but he wasn't able to finish whatever excuse he have to say as Lindir let out an angry scream-- for that does it, if his Lord Elrond won't lay a hand on them for the vandalism and destruction of Imaldris property, he would. He wasted no time giving chase, throwing the blankets and sheets aside, much to the dwarves surprise. 

He didn't expect them to move very fast, especially the one with the star hair, who have the gall to roar with laughter as he dodge tables and other obstacles with such swiftness and ease, quite nimble and light-footed for a dwarf, tossing half of his load to Bofur who is trying to keep up with him.

“You broke him!”

“I thought Kili did that?”

“Nah, he missed! But their Lord is not impressed--”

Lindir miscalculated a step and tripped over a branch, cursing as he landed hard on his behind. He could hear a loud victorious whoop and the dwarves have completely disappeared from his view by the time he managed to push himself up from the ground. His back side hurts, a dull throbbing ache as he skimmed his hands from his lower back to his buttocks, nothing from the waist down feels broken, but he was badly bruised by the fall.

“That's it!” He hissed, rubbing his bruised bottom “I am done! I am--”

His eyes drifted back to the opposite side of the small bridge, and back to his Lord Elrond's sleeping chambers. There are lights now when he remembered clearly they have been put out before he left for the council. 

His office and receiving quarters beside it start to flicker with light from the high rise windows, dull glowing lights slowly brightening the whole room. Someone is in the inside, and Lindir’s heart leapt to his chest, fearing some of their guests have wandered in the study.

_At least they haven't burned anything yet_ , a voice whispered in his head, which filled him with dread. Limping, Lindir tried to move as swiftly as he could, letting out a frustrated noise when he heard loud thudding sounds, which are most likely books or scrolls from the library tumbling down the floor.

He grabbed a long rake near a trimmed bush in the gardens as he made his way hastily (to the nearest entrance of his Lord Elrond's study, taking a deep breath as he held the doorknob and opened it wide.

He was ready to shout, poised to strike or throw the rake like a weapon, but instead of finding obnoxious dwarves loitering the study, he was greeted by the sight of a dark-haired elf fumbling over some scrolls.

“Oh, my apologies.” Lindir blinked, not expecting the visitor. He mentally tried to recall if Elrond made a mention of having a visitor that evening for that day, but came in empty. There is a strict rule of not allowing unexpected visitors in his study, that they have to wait outside the receiving area or by the open-air lobby near the waterfalls. Even the guards know this, who would be the first to inform him, and somehow this strange elf made it through.

Lindir got to observe his profile more closely: his hair is a loose wave of dark brown, a shade lighter than Elrond’s, with tiny braids on each side of his head near the ears. He have a handsome aquiline face, and eyes that are deep purple in color. It was looking in his eyes that Lindir was able to roughly assess his age: they seem to possess weariness and solemnity that far exceeds even his Lord’s.

The said elf lifted an eyebrow and stared at the direction of his grip that then Lindir realized he haven't let go of the rake he is holding. He almost dropped it down but then he remembered, “My Lord Elrond haven't informed me of having a visitor this late in the evening.”

“No, he is not expecting me. I just happen to be within the area and I decided to drop by for a visit.” He spoke, moving around the row of shelves like he is _familiar_ of the place, placing the gathered scrolls in one of the lower sections. “He is very busy, I understand. I don’t want to him to be distracted from his duties.” He looked up, dusting his arms. “If I am not mistaken, you must be Lindir, his personal assistant?”

Lindir narrowed his eyes, too tired and even more frazzled to play games. “Who are you?” 

Maglor sighed, “Oh, you must be too young to remember then, we only met once.” He pulled a book from the higher shelf, “--and my portrait at the halls leading to his chambers does not seem to do me justice. They make my hair appear far thicker than it should, and I only wear a singular plait when I sleep.”

Lindir tried to grasp from memory the numerous portraits he have seen getting cleaned every week, trying to place the face to where he have seen them. 

Then it struck him, his eyes widening in such comical proportions that Maglor wanted to laugh, if only the poor elf didn’t looked so overwrought from the stress of dealing with stubborn guests. 

 

“You are the Lord's...” he starts to sputter,

“Lindir, it's alright. I understand. You could return to your duties, I could find my way around here in the library.”

“No, you need to be attended to! I will call for a servant to prepare a room, a hot bath and---” Lindir did a quick turn, one of the ends of his robe getting caught in one of the tables nearby, tearing it, making him trip. He let out a surprised shout as he tries to turn, but ends up falling face down to the floor.

Maglor flinched, and hurriedly approached Lindir by his side.

“That must have hurt, are you alright?” 

“Just my dignity, I will live.” Lindir didn’t seem to make a move to sit up, choking a sob, he just curls to his side, facing the concerned elf kneeling in front of him. “I mean, mas...”

“Maglor is just fine.” Maglor pats his shoulder, re-assuring him, when he noticed the younger elf is not making any effort to move. “No need for formalities. Are you sure you haven't broken anything?”

“No...?”

“Oh, it's really that bad of a day?”

Lindir nodded mutely.

“Well, you can't lay down the ground the whole evening and weep.” He offered his hand, and Lindir reluctantly took it. He was pulled up with remarkable ease. “If you still don't trust me, you could keep me company, see other things in the library until your Lord arrives.”

“My lord Elrond did advise me that I could...”

The other elf huffed, “This not about him, this is about _you_. Are you alright? If you are feeling unwell...”

“No, I am alright.” Lindir answered immediately, flustered that he might have offended Maglor. “I am sorry, I don't mean to offend. I could keep you company, it will be rude to leave you with no assistance.”

“No offense taken,” Maglor replied, giving Lindir a quick going over with a concerned expression. “Now, it would look like you will need a change of clothes.. also that tear looks bad.”

“I...there is an adjoining guest room nearby, maintained just in case of emergencies. I could change.” Lindir helpfully supplied, but then he noticed something that he didn't realized earlier: Maglor looked like he just had a bath, smelling like fresh blossoms and his thick hair seem to shine, and if one is to look closely it seems that they're slightly damp. 

Also he is wearing loose bed robes that comes in the colors common to the inhabitants of the valley.

His eyes narrowed, “You have been _there_ , haven't you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elrond’s evening outfit’s color coordinate is actually inspired from a [colour palette](http://www.colourlovers.com/palette/697162/Oh_Birds_So_Blue_!) based on a blue-gray medium-sized South American songbird called a [Tanager](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue-gray_tanager).
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	3. Weary hearts and souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maglor retires to the guest room and insists that Lindir stays with him for the evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for partial nudity~

After taking a much relaxing bath and changing his robes, Lindir realized that their robes somehow embarrassingly match. He is slimmer in form and less broad on the shoulders and they drape loose to some parts of his body...he have to constantly tug at the shoulders, while it fits Maglor perfectly like it’s sewn for him. Lindir wonders if the guest room is specifically built to cater him, as he can’t remember having heard or seen any specific written details about it when it was made. 

It is spacious, just a little smaller than the receiving quarters but with basic accommodations: A medium sized bed in the corner of the room, a small table with two chairs near a small window, there is a hearth. The walls are lined with shelves, full of various books and scrolls.

By the time he emerged from the washroom, Maglor have tidied up the library, brought some of the scrolls in the room and have stoked the fire in the hearth, the windows are opened to allow the fresh evening breeze in as he sits on the carpeted floor near the hearth, tuning idly on a worn-looking lyre. It gives way to a relaxing atmosphere that Lindir cannot help but be transfixed by it. He have yet to hear and see the once Noldorin prince, famed for his voice and musical skill, perform.

Maglor have sung a few lines from some distantly familiar ballad when by instinct his ears perked up, and looked up to see Lindir quietly observing him.

“Come,” he pat at the space beside him. “You could sit beside me and observe.”

Lindir nodded, padding quietly where Maglor sat and noticed two mugs of warm tea prepared. He didn’t bother asking how he acquired them, and slowly sat beside him, grabbing a small blanket nearby and wrapping himself with it.

He hissed when his buttocks pressed on the heels of his folded legs, and Maglor looked up immediately.

“I.. slipped earlier, prior to going here.” Lindir confessed, looking worried when Maglor set his lyre aside to look at his behind. “Nothing is broken, I am fine.”

“You slipped twice when you tear your robe.” Maglor tsked, pressing a palm below the small of Lindir's back, the younger elf yelped and almost fell to his side. “That does not seem nothing to me, it needs to be looked at.”

“Lord Elrond is preoccupied at the moment.” Lindir replied hastily, feeling heat rise from his neck in embarrassment at the thought of his Lord inspecting his bruised bottom because he got careless. 

“I am aware of that,” Maglor replied, turning to his side, stretching to reach for a satchel placed near the end of the hearth, rummaging for something. He smiled triumphantly as he held a dark-colored enamelled bottle. “--and I don't mean him.” he pat Lindir at the shoulder, “I will take a look at it.”

Lindir’s eyes widened in alarm and shook his head, his face have quickly reddened to the tip of his ears. “No. That would be unnecessary!”

“I have seen through your lord and his brother on far more embarrassing injuries through the decades, believe me, this is nothing.” He uncapped the bottle. “It is a salve, used to balm joint pains, it works on bruises on some degree.” He turned towards Lindir, who is sitting stiff as a board. “Turn around please and bend over.” 

It was a trenchant command, and swallowing thickly, Lindir did what he was told, folding the blanket around his arms as he bends forward, face still red as Maglor hums and tugs at the waistband of his loose pajamas. What a sight he probably is, his buttocks exposed to his Lord’s adopted father. The evening just keeps getting worse.

“Oh, this would discolor pretty bad.” and Lindir winced to the touch as Maglor's warm and slightly calloused hands palms his cheeks, feeling it for any further injuries. “But you are right, nothing seems broken, this would ease the pain throughout the evening.” He glanced at the younger elf, Lindir is looking over his shoulder, clearly embarrassed with his ears folded low and his face glowing with embarrassment with his behind upthrust in the air. If this is a different and less embarrassing situation, he presents himself irresistibly submissive. Maglor raised his brows, lathering and spreading the salve to the once lily-white and now slightly pinkish cheeks. They are well-rounded and surprisingly firm.“Hm, he does not know what he is missing.”

“Who?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Lindir frowned, and yelped again when Maglor slapped him lightly at the hip. “There you go, pull them up now. It should take effect in about half-an hour.” he stood up and padded towards the washroom as Lindir hurriedly pulled up his loose pants, tentatively sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor, feeling the minty sensation of the salve dulling the throbbing ache. 

He glanced at the worn-out lyre, touching it lightly with his fingers and drawing back quick when Maglor emerged from the washroom, drying his hands with a small towel.

“Go on.” he move to sit in front of him, sipping his tea. “You have my permission.”

Lindir quickly deferred with an excuse that he is out of practice, but Maglor swiftly moved behind him, placing his lyre on his lap, moving a leg each on both sides, effectively cocooning him.

“Play.”

There is no way he couldn’t turn Maglor down, trapped that he is, and sighing, Lindir nods, playing a simple piece that first comes to mind. He could feel the puff of warm breath near his nape and shuddered lightly, the closeness have made him even more nervous, affecting his performance, stuttering on few words and striking the wrong string. 

Maglor chuckled when his ears twitched low again. “You got nothing to worry about, Lindir.” He assured him, ghosting his hand lightly over Lindir’s as he guides their form. “You remind me of my son, when he is younger.” he continued, “He tries to be firm and grounded--well, someone has to be for the two of them-- and his twitchy ears always give his feelings away.”

“I think it’s hard to imagine--” Lindir breathed, trying to mimic the movement of Maglor’s hands, until he gently withdrew with a pleasant hum.“He smiles in his better days. But...I think nothing truly surprises him anymore, he hardly even looked appalled when the dwarves desecrated his property. He never have been expressive or at least ever since--”

He halted himself before the words came out, it’s been years since The Lady’s name have been mentioned in these halls.

“None of which he should blame himself.” Maglor replied, the tone of his voice taking a solemn turn. “You faithfully stayed on his side, gave him hope, a reason to stay and live to fight for another day when he himself have given up, and for that I am grateful. You took care of him and looked after the welfare of his family at a time of great need... you are there when I can not.”

Lindir can feel himself go red to the tip of his ears, and silently hoped Maglor didn’t notice it as he pats him on the elbow to adjust his grip. “It is nothing, I am doing what is my sworn duty.”

“You care for him, deeply.”

“I do. He is my Lord...”

“No, I mean beyond that.” Maglor replied, satisfied with Lindir’s technique, withdrew his hands from his arms and settle them on his knees. He didn’t miss how his back suddenly straightened, going stiff. “I could see it in the way you look at him, when you thought he isn’t looking...or when no one is watching.”

“That is actually quite disturbing,” Lindir turned to his side, and true to Maglor’s guess, his cheeks are flushed pink and had spread right through his ear tips.”For you to be ever watchful of the inhabitants of Imaldris, when none of us know any better. How do you even get past the guards?”

“You must understand, there is a reason why I need to stay hidden. And also, that is a secret.”

“It is still disturbing.” Lindir turned back, his shoulders slumped as he timidly strum the strings, having lost interest to continue. Maglor have heard him mumble something barely audible, something about being rude.

“Do you think he knows?” he spoke softly at last, setting down the lyre. “I might not be able to properly face him, if he does.”

“I assure you he does not. If he does, he will most likely hold a private conversation with you.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and sensing that Lindir is still upset, Maglor carefully moved away, plucking the lyre on where it lay and stood up. 

“With a little practice and proper posturing, you will refine your technique. Practice every chance you get.” He spoke, heading to the small desk near the shelves, opening a drawer to gather a quill and a pot of ink and some empty scrolls. “Does he overwork you?”

“No, not at all. This..this week is an exception.” Lindir answered, still sitting on the floor, before suddenly remembering the tea beside him and took to it. He took a quick sip and frowned, “Dwarves.”

“If he is not wrapped up in that ridiculous headdress of his, some of that blood flow in his head will probably had knocked some sense into him. You never make a small contingent of dwarves hungry, and intentionally serve them nothing but leafy food.” Lindir almost snorted at his tea. Maglor is starting to sound like a disappointed mother to a hard-headed youngling. “It is true, even his kin are practical not to wear that much jewelry. I would like to think that he is possessive of his hair due to an incident with his brother Elros when they were children.” 

“What are they like? My lord and his brother, as children?” 

Maglor headed back towards him, handing him the writing implements, to which he eyed in a confused manner. “You are going to try to compose something, anything, and then show me.”

“Why do you insist I practice?”

“You are a minstrel first before you are his personal attendant.” Maglor supplied, before heading to the small table at the wall opposite the bed, where he stacked the scrolls he borrowed from the library earlier. “It is your craft, I would not like to see it go to waste. As musicians, we are healers in our own right.” He gathered a handful of scrolls, nearly covering his whole face as headed back to the hearth. “There are those who heal the ailments of the body and the mind, like Elrond.” With a huff, he settled the scrolls at the floor. He wiped some dust from his brow. “And us, who heal their weary hearts and souls. If you ever feel inadequate in these trying times, remember that.”

“I...thank you.”

“It is the least I could do for your service.” He smiled, untying a newly rolled manuscript. “Now, you were asking what Elrond and his brother are like when they were children?”

Lindir nodded.

“My dear Lindir, if I were to tell stories, we have the whole night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have anyone noticed the blink and you miss it subtle hinting from Maglor? Iol.
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> Anyway, the fourth is my favorite installment as we will finally see our favorite dysfunctional family! Some are inspired by the discussions and comics in Idahl's [tolkien trash art blog](http://idahlrillion.tumblr.com)


	4. Springtime Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindir got a glimpse of his Lord Elrond's childhood (aka. Maglor being That Parent who tells Embarrassing Stories of Their Children)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the longest chapter for this story to date, we finally get to see the dysfunctional family and I have fun writing it, let me know what you guys think !

“He thought if he made something special for Maedhros he would be less grumpy with them, but he is still a child.” Maglor untied another scroll, browsing it leisurely while Lindir hunched down as he starts to write on the parchment by the floor. They could have used the chairs, but it’s a bit late in the evening to look for someone to fetch them some night lamps, and Lindir thought it’s for the best: he is not the only one who is getting their well-deserved rest after the chaos and stress wrought upon by their unexpected guests.

“Well intentioned as it was, my brother still didn't find it amusing to find a week's worth of food supply turned to a crude makeshift hand prosthetic.” Maglor continued, tucking a warm blanket around him as he adjusts his legs, folding them. He smiled at Lindir’s baffled expression.

“He tried to make a hand, out of... vegetables?”

“Yes, and Elrond felt so miserable that he resembled a kicked puppy, lowered ears and sad large eyes for days until Maedhros, not knowing how else to properly console him, have a big plush toy made for him.” Maglor mimicked the expression and Lindir giggled. “It was terribly impractical, and no could tell if it’s a bunny or a hound, but the twins carry it whenever they went out to play and Elros finds it suitable for target practice.”

“Lord...Elros, he is a..lively one, isn’t he?”

“Lively? Elros is feisty as an elfling.” Maglor recalls fondly, “He is more impulsive of the two, actions first, words later. He is stockier than the two as well and more fiery in temperament.” his gaze then drifted towards the glowing warmth of the hearth. “When we first met...Elrond is trying to protect him, he have his arms wrapped around his brother in a tight embrace. I tried approaching them, to assure them we meant no harm, and Elros stubbornly pushed his way from his brother and punched me on the jaw! I didn't see it coming that it knocked me down the floor.” 

Lindir flinched just imagining it, and then noticed how Maglor's gaze slowly grew distant at the flickering flames as he gets lost in the memory. Lindir knew that look, he have seen it happen whenever his Lord would come across the Lady's belongings, and it pains him.

He cleared his throat, shaking Maglor from his reverie. “Did he give up?”

“Who..?”

“Lord Elrond, did he give up after the vegetables incident?”

“Ah no, Elrond wanted Maedhros to be happy again, so he decided to marry him.”

“Marry?” Lindir almost dropped his quill, from where he is writing. Maglor slowly shifted his position, unfolding his legs as he unrolls another thick scroll, leaning on his side before stretching gracefully forward, lying on his stomach and folding his arms, one hand resting on his chin.

“Yes, I sang at the their 'wedding'.” Maglor replied, he didn't not look up this time and thus did not see Lindir’s wide-eyed expression as he continues to browse the manuscript. From beneath his thick lashes, a small smile starts to form on his lips. “Elrond was so happy.”

\---

 

_Long time ago,_

“This is a bad idea.”

Maedhros frowned as he carefully removed the flower crown from his hair, trying to detangle it from his smaller braids. Elros declared proudly he made it all by himself, constructed from deep-hued greenery from the outskirts of the forest nearby, a pair of bold orange blossoms that accented the fiery red lustre of his hair, blended with the subdued complimenting shades of buttercups and dahlias. Maglor made a matching flower crown for Elrond, smaller, simpler and more dainty, comprised of peach-and-red roses and bright berries; a lovely red and pink halo to go with his wavy thick dark brown hair. They all wore simple white outfits that day, with the exception that Maedhros’ and Elrond’s, Maglor have sewn them matching tunics and breeches from silk and gossamer fabrics. (Maedhros sarcastically laughed off the idea when Maglor told him about Elrond’s proposal, and Maglor made sure that he sees him working on the clothes much to his brother’s horror and to the twins delight) 

“No, it is not. I think it is rather sweet of Elrond.” Maglor sat quietly beside his brother by the porch, sipping from his mug of tea, handing out another mug. They celebrated by preparing a simple feast by their small garden outdoors and the twins have finished eating and are now playing tag. “All he wanted is to see you happy, he wouldn’t be happy if you are not. As simple as that. I don't know what we did to ever deserve that kind of sweetness, not after what they have gone through.”

“He is a child, Maglor. He is unbearably naive. You should stop reading ridiculous tales to them before they sleep.” Maedhros grumbled, tossing the crown on Maglor’s lap before reaching for the mug and taking a few deep gulps.“I rather believe it's a joke that his brother came up with and tricked him to going along with it.”

Maglor took the crown, trailing his fingertips on the soft petals before placing it on his own head. “Unfortunately, that is not the case.”

They looked up at the sound of Elro’s excited scream, and both let out a sigh of nervous relief when it trailed to loud laughter as he get tackled by Elrond at the grassy ground. 

“...was it necessary to let them have that much cake.” Maedhros flinched as Elros counter-tackled his brother to the ground with a loud thud, and then making a double-take when Elrond distracted his brother by licking a long wet stripe on each cheek. The twins are a mess, their once immaculate clothes soiled with dirt and their faces have smudges of cake custard and berry juices.

Elros cried out and starts wiping his face like it was stung with bees, and Elrond giggled, before pushing him away and heads back at the table to grab the last slice of honey cake on the plate. 

Maglor watched in amusement of it all, patting Maedhros at the shoulder. “It's a wedding, brother. There should be cake.”

Elros tries to pull off his twin’s breeches as revenge but Maedhros shot him a hard glare. He kept his gaze steady until Elros backed off, after which he took another sip. “You are enjoying this aren't you?”

“Mmm..hmm...” Maglor hummed, the way that Maedhros know is not good news. He arranged the flower crown on his head, took the mug from his brother’s hand, stood up, turning around just in time there is a loud belch and Maedhros watch a very dirty Elrond rushing towards his direction. He swore he would get back on Maglor for this. 

“This is the happiest day ever!” Elrond declared exuberantly, jumping on to Maedhros, who resisted the urge to curse out loud when Elrond accidentally kneed him on the groin. The elfling shifted excitedly, spreading the mess on Maedhros’ tunic and breeches. “I am happy that we are married!”

“Maedhros is happy too!” Maglor came out again, this time without the flower crown, carrying washcloths and change of clothing for the twins. He ignored his brother’s burning gaze, bending over the twin sitting on his lap and Elrond let his step father wipe his face. “He is just at loss of words right now, that’s how happy he is!” 

When Maglor was done wiping his face clean and removed his soiled tunic, Elrond turned his bright eyes on Maedhros, half-naked (but at least almost clean) and bouncing on his lap. “Are you happy?”

He glared over Elrond’s shoulder, but Maglor was unperturbed. We are not going to feed the boys cake for another decade. 

“I...yes. I am happy.”

But Elrond is not satisfied at that, his ears-- which are usually big at that age, folded low, which is not a good sign. He asked shyly, “What other things do people do once they get married?”

“They live together?” Elros answered, his voice muffled as Maglor helped him out of his tunic as well, wiping him clean too.

His twin pouted, a comical expression so rare from a usually serious elfling that Maglor chuckled. “But we are all living together already!”

Elros paused, thinking hard, and was still long enough for Maglor to put on his sleep shirt on without any fuss.“They do sappy stuff” he answered, crinkling his nose. “Like kissing, and hugs probably.”

His ears perked up at that, eyes shining with excitement much to Maedhros’ horror. “..I could do kissing!”

“Elrond..no!” But Elrond straightened up from his lap and flattened himself against his chest looping his arms around his neck before landing a loud smacking kiss on his lips. Maedhros froze, and seeing that there is no resistance, Elrond made an excited noise and wiggled closer, pressing another messy kiss on his mouth, tiny hands moving down to grab fistfuls of red locks and littered more kisses all over Maedhros’ face, on his cheeks, his nose and he keeps coming back at the mouth. Maedhros squirmed and he could hear his brother’s shocked gasp and Elros’ gagging sounds.

“Ewww brother, you are rubbing yourself all over! Gross! Gross!” Elros starts pulling the collar of his sleep shirt to cover his face, and hides behind Maglor, burying his head at the small of his back.

“Oh Eru..” Maedhros sputtered, trying to pry Elrond off him. “Brother, make him stop! He is starting to lick!”

Maglor lifted and carry a mortified Elros on one arm and moved hastily towards the porch, and wrapped one arm on Elrond’s torso, gently prying him off his brother. The elfling whined and wiggled for a while but when Maedhros also lifted him off his lap and deposited him beside his brother, he quieted down.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his face was so flushed it is almost luminous, spreading towards his chest, his lips red from kissing. “Did I make you feel okay?”

Maglor gave his brother a look.

“Yes! I feel very much better.. I...” seeing the hopeful look on Elrond’s face, he quickly added. “But please, no more kissing all over my face, alright?”

Elrond nodded, and Maglor handed him his sleep shirt to wear. Elros have already passed out by Maglor’s shoulder “I am happy, if you are happy.” he announced, his head of thick brown hair popping out of the shirt’s collar. He crawled back to the bench, but didn’t made any move to sit on Maedhros lap, much to their relief. “Please don't be sad again, how I could make it go away?”

Maedhros reluctantly tries to pat him in the head, but instead pats him on the shoulder. “You will understand once you're older.”

Elrond squirmed on his side of the bench, pulling the ends of the sleep shirt, his head bent and ears lowered as he fiddled with the hem. “Once I'm grown, I will find a place where anyone regardless of who they are can seek refuge and find a warm and welcoming home. You don't have to wander and hide anymore.”

Maedhros and his brother exchanged glances,

“Elrond..”

“I could make it happen you know, once Elros and I are strong enough. We will find a way to make you a working hand. That is what making you sad isn’t it?” He looked up timidly, “Promise me you two will come.”

“We promise.” Maglor answered for both of them. The solemn silence was broken with Elros’ loud snore, and they chuckled. Elrond remained rooted to his spot, his hands shifting uncomfortably on his lap. “Come on now, get up! It’s getting dark, your brother is already asleep, it’s time for bed.”

His grip tightened on his sleep shirt, gathering the end in a knot. “Uhm, I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

“I felt funny earlier after kissing.” Elrond whispered, and Maedhros noticed that even his ears have grown red. “I-- I am now tingly between my legs,” he looked alarmed when Elrond lifted his face, looking like he is about to cry. “It won’t go down!”

“What won’t go down?” Maglor asked, and then it hits him. He and Maedhros almost knocked heads when they look at each other’s mortified expressions. Elrond starts to wail.

“Oh, Oh!” Maglor acting on quick thinking, handed a sleeping Elros to his brother. Maedhros stood up, and let Maglor try to lift the other twin. “Come here, that means you are...growing up! It’s part of growing up, like how your ears will grow proportional to your body someday!”

Maedhros scoffed. “Don't you think he is too young to have this 'change’?”

“Shh!” Maglor shushed his brother, who rolled his good eye and rocks a drooling Elros on his shoulder. He sat beside Elrond, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Come show me, I won't be mad.” 

Elrond sniffed and uncurled his legs, “Oh sh--, that's-- you know what no more unnecessary kissing from now on without permission! You will need a cold bath!”

“Looks like someone grew a thick oak branch.”

“Maedhros! Not helping!” Maglor growled, lifting a curled Elrond to his arms, who is now starting to cry. “It will go down, I promise. A cold bath will make it go away. Then, tomorrow we will have a long talk about the birds and the bees.”

“I think I don’t want to grow up now...”

“No, no this is just a phase alright? You will be fine after we talk tomorrow, I promise!” Maglor starts to make haste and has barely entered the threshold when Elros woke up with a yawn on Maedhros’ shoulder, rubbing his eyes.

“Is Elrond’s pee-pee being weird again..?”

“Again?” 

“His pee-pee starts getting weird before the wedding, when Maedhros told him grown ups roll naked and rub at each other together in bed when they get married. Elrond tries to imagine why would grown ups rub each other naked and he have been sleeping on the floor for days now.” Elros yawned, placing his sleepy head on Maedhros shoulder again, unaware how he went uncharacteristically stiff, or how livid Maglor look right now. “We don’t know what to do so I whacked it with the broom until it goes down.”

“No wonder he seems...terrified?” Maedhros supplied, feeling cold sweat trickle at the side of his forehead as Elros dropped back to dozing off once more. “I will be terrified if someone whacked my stiff cock with a broom.” Maglor’s glare looked like it promised far more sinister things. “Alright, alright! Just check if he is okay!”

“No one’s stiff coc-- pee-pee is getting whacked by a broom!” Maglor announced, holding an embarrassed and sobbing Elrond tight. “If you feel something strange going on your body, just tell me!” He lifted an accusatory finger and silently mouthed to his brother _‘Except you! We will talk later.’_

Maedhros was only able to breath a sigh of relief when Maglor have turned and left towards their bathroom upstairs. He would be back soon enough, to lecture him about what not to say around the children and he thought if he held on the other twin longer, maybe the lecture would be postponed for awhile...

“Mmm.. want more cake, please.” Elros grumbled, wiggling and accidentally kicking him by the stomach.

“Shh! Just sleep!”

 

\---

“Fascinating...”

“Yes, it truly was.” Maglor replied, rising up to seat properly, stretching his legs before folding them. “He have always been mildly infatuated with my oldest brother as an elfling, the sweets brought out those feelings, which later became a constant source of embarrassment for him. He swore off having honey cakes until he is almost sixty and Elros shifted his attention from whacking ‘unwanted bodily responses’ from him to attempting to cut his hair to far more so-called updated hair styles.”

Lindir blinked, shaking his head. He felt some degree of second-embarrassment for his lord by just listening to the tale. “No. I mean. It’s fascinating how he was as a child, after all he have been through-- in the end, he kept to his promise.” He looked around, over the domed ceiling and the relaxed ambiance of the room. “I think this guest room was specifically built for you. He knew you would come home.”

“He also know I couldn’t stay for long.” Maglor replied, gathering the scrolls into one pile beside him. “I explained this to him long ago, when his brother is still alive. I cannot keep for long in one place, not until I find true peace within myself.” 

“He have most likely forgiven you, for all those years.”

“I know.” Maglor straightened up, gathering the scrolls to return them to the desk. “He told me that while Imaldris is being founded.”

Lindir let out a frustrated huff, “Then why---”

“He have his reasons.”

Lindir’s ears perked up in alarm at the sound of the familiarly deep sonorous voice. He looked over Maglor’s shoulder and let out a surprised squeak, tossing the blankets and scrambling up to his feet, making Maglor turn around. 

Maglor did not even appeared surprised as he eyed Elrond from the room’s entrance from head to toe, he was leaning by the door jamb with an unimpressed air around him, arms folded across his chest. He have changed to his evening robes, his hair unadorned, it looked slightly tangled-- almost like he just ran his hands through it.

“My Lord! You should have--”

“Relax and just sit down, Lindir.” Maglor spoke, lifting one hand in command, eyes not leaving his step son. “You deserve a break, it have been a long day. It’s rather late in the evening don’t you think, _Elrond?_ ”

“I was about to retire when I saw the light from outside, I came in to check.” Elrond frowned, “I instructed Lindir he could take the whole day off tomorrow after tonight--” Maglor carried the scrolls, passing him by and brushed him roughly by the shoulder. His eyes narrowed. “Oh stop that, you are being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is the heels you have specifically built in your shoes and boots.” Maglor answered, bending over a small table to get a small box. He smiled, the box resting against his hip as he turned to face Elrond, who looked mildly irritated. “Your lady wife loved you the way you are, it’s not your fault you got the recessive genes, could be that or your human lineage.” He stacked the scrolls into the box, approaching closer. “These days, you are mostly on your horse when you are in the field, nobody would mind your height, truly.” He pats him on his cheek, running a thumb on a cheekbone. “Stop frowning, you are starting to look way older than me when you do that.”

Lindir, who is starting to feel a little warm, cautiously slipped in his soft soled slippers and started gathering their things from the floor. He didn’t miss the flicker of softness in his Lord’s eyes when Maglor touched his face briefly, before turning away to place the scrolls in their respective book cases.

“So, how long have you been spying on us?” 

“I am merely observing.”

“How long have you been observing?”

Lindir heard an irritated huff, but his Lord Elrond have turned his back away from him and he cannot see his expression. “When you are at the part where my brother woke up and told you how he struck my....he struck me between my legs to bring it down.”

“He whacked your erection because he didn’t know what was happening, and he is trying to help.” Maglor supplied, climbing a small ladder to return some of the scrolls in their proper arrangements. “We are all males here, there is nothing wrong with the word erection. Erection, morning oakwood. Whatever you young ones call it these days. You have recovered well, and have fathered three strong and lovely children.”

“They are your grandchildren too.” Sighing, Elrond turned to face his attendant. He looked far smaller and slimmer without his long official robes, and in bed clothes he looked rather..comely. The poor elf is starting to feel conscious about how he looked that Elrond noticed he is going a little red on the cheeks. “Lindir, if you--”

“Leave him alone, he needs to rest.” Maglor called out, “Do you know he is in a verge of a nervous breakdown when I came across him? I have to ease him down. You don’t need an attendant to dress you down in your bed robes, or unbraid your hair. I didn’t raise you that way.”

“He have to help you move the books and scrolls back.” He answered exasperatedly, looking concerned as the color of Lindir's cheeks reached the tip of his ears, which keeps uncontrollably twitching under his curls, creating a pleasant jingling tune from his piercings. “You should have told me.”

“Naturally he won’t,” Elrond almost rolled his eyes, Maglor didn’t even let him finish. “He would claim nothing is wrong and he could handle everything just fine. You are his Lord, he won’t and could not say no.” 

“I am not being hard on him, none of us expected guests today.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Lindir made a loud hiccuping sound, he quickly covered his mouth with one hand, almost dropping some of the parchment and inks he is placing on the table. “Did you get my attendant _intoxicated_?”

“I might have added a small cap of brandy in his tea, it came from your collection. He is so strung, I thought it might help him relax.” Maglor climbed down, and approached them. Lindir is giving him a betrayed look. “I also think he might be enjoying our very engaging conversation about your first awkward flourish to elfhood. What do you think, Lindir?”

Lindir found himself staring at his Lord’s chest, broad and toned from years of being a warrior and partially exposed by the loosely tied lavender-colored bed robes. He is drawn to touch them and jerked up, flushing anew when he realized both of them are staring at him. “I..uhm yes. I think I am feeling a little tired, my Lords..if I may retire?”

Maglor nodded, “Sleep in the room, you are in no condition to move about.”

“Thank you.” he was about to close the door, and opened it again. “I have finished writing the piece, like you have instructed.”

“Splendid, thank you Lindir. You can place it on the desk. I will see to it later.”

Lindir nodded timidly, casting a shy glance first before finally closing the guest room’s door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The mention of heeled shoes is a reference inspired from the deleted scene from the extended edition in the first hobbit movie where B.Mckenzie’s Lindir and H.Weaving’s Elrond walked side by side towards the fountains. It looked like the boot have heels.
> 
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> (Shh I did need it for a research for a cosplay at that time XD)
> 
> Also let’s just headcanon that being half-elven, Elrond is maybe slightly smaller and stockier than the average elf. 
> 
> \- The giant stuffed toy hound-bunny mentioned looks like this
> 
> \- Maedhros flower crown is [based from this](http://www.brides.com/images/2014_bridescom/Editorial_Images/07/Wedding-Hairstyles-with-Flowers/Large/Floral-Wedding-Hairstyles-Justin-DeMutiis-Photography.jpg), while Elrond’s is [based on this](http://www.brides.com/images/2014_bridescom/Editorial_Images/07/Wedding-Hairstyles-with-Flowers/Large/Floral-Wedding-Hairstyles-Erich-McVey-Photography.jpg).
> 
> I also apologize for the awkward boner jokes XD (I actually wanted to do a higher-rating version with the twins being older and of legal age, since I either write smut or fluff, but I got no time to deal with haters. Or maybe later, if someone would like to beta it?)


	5. Future Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond and Maglor have a short talk

There is silence until the door clicked close.

“For once” Elrond rubbed the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. “Could you _please_ inform me if you are going to visit, you can’t --” he gestured wordlessly at the study, some of the books have yet to be put back. “--come and go as you please. Materializing suddenly in my private study, what if someone else and it’s not Lindir that saw you?”

“Most likely they already heard or have seen the portraits to know who I am.” He lifted his brow, folding his arms across his chest, leaning on the wall on his right. “You worry too much, this is not like the time when I used to visit the children when they are still infants.”

Elrond narrowed his eyes, surveying the area stoically, to make sure they are both alone (Lindir had already most likely, fallen asleep) before turning back to a calm Maglor, and made frustrated gestures with his hands, ears folding low and flat on the sides of his head, before running his palms up and down his face as he fretted and paced to and fro, much to Maglor’s amusement.

“The last time you threw a fit like that your brother is with us, you called me a bastard in front of him and his young grandchild.” He remarked, locating a comfortable chair near his long desk,  “Stop doing that with your eyebrows, it makes you look like you have sat on a cactus.”

Elrond whipped around, stalked towards him, glowering and red on the cheeks. “But on the other hand, it made you look less severe. It’s like centuries have me--”

“Have you truly, finally _lost your mind_???” Elrond hissed, slamming his hands on the desk. “I know what you are trying to do. He is too young for me!”

 

The look on Elrond’s face is so uncharacteristically comical that Maglor almost barely resisted the urge to laugh. “And that made you _look_ , didn’t it?” He bends forward to flick one folded ear that Elrond yelped, jumping back. Maglor stood up gracefully, dusting his robes. “You are to speak, even if he wore my bed robes, it is only loose and it’s not as diaphanous and revealing as yours. No wonder he got distracted.”

“It is a bed robe, I am supposed to be resting for the evening.” He rubbed the sore ear tip, “Just leave Lindir alone, he is not your plaything.”

“I am not ‘playing’ with anyone,” Maglor replied in a more serious tone, and sighed, leaning back against the desk, observing his former ward’s profile. “Yes, I came here to draw your attendant in,   _but_ to give him counsel, apparently it’s a wrong time. No one expected the dwarves, so I have to... improvise.”

“By improvise,” Elrond grumbled, “You coddled him, got him tipsy without his knowledge and told him embarrassing stories of my childhood.”

“Well, there is that.” Maglor shrugged, “But also if you didn’t notice, I was mentoring him.”

At Elrond’s confused expression, he answered. “Like I told him earlier, it’s the least I could do for his service in Imaldris, and looking out for your family, for you, even if you forget yourself sometimes.” Maglor reached out for his face, leaning forward to gently brush the thick bangs from his forehead before resting his hand on his cheek, something he used to do when to Elrond as an elfling. Elrond unconsciously leans into it with a heavy sigh.

And then Maglor squeezed his cheeks and shook him.

“You are working him like a thrall, he is not getting enough practice as a minstrel!”

Elrond pulled back, rubbing his jaw, eyes narrowing as Maglor snickered, “You are going to end up beating me up for the rest of the evening!”

“Someone has to shake you up a little when you are being uptight or put on the place if needed to be, and it’s not going to be Lindir.” Maglor replied, “Your advisors would certainly not overstep their boundaries, who else will have the authority?”

“Still, it’s not funny.” Elrond grumbled, rubbing his cheek, it is also starting to redden like his ear. He side-glanced at Maglor, who look satisfied with himself. “Have you ever considered how he would feel with...” he gestured, “..with all of this, what you are trying to do?”

“Lindir is young, so he isn’t that hard to read. But not _that_ young as you seem to worry about, he is just old enough when he used to watch your boys when they were still very active elflings.” Maglor explained, examining his fingers. “He is around you almost daily, side by side, making sure everything runs as smoothly under your watch. Even if my visits are infrequent, there is no mistaking the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.” Elrond runs a palm to his face, “He is quite expressive, if put on the spot. He tries to be calm but the twitching of his ears gives him away. Just like you used to be.”

 

“I know.”

“Yes, I know you do not want to be reminded--”

 

“No,” he shook his head, “What I meant was, I am fully aware of his infatuation.” Maglor straightened up, and by reflex Elrond took a step back. After flicking his ear and pinching his cheeks like a misbehaved elfing, there is no predicting what his foster father would do next.“Why do you think I said he is too young for me? I _know_.”

Elrond prepared to receive a head slap or something, but nothing came. “That is what he is afraid of,” Maglor sighed, “At first he told me it’s rude to pry, and he does not know what he will do if you knew. I suggested that if that’s the case, you could always talk to him.” He turned to face him, moving nearer. “The question is, do you feel something for him?”

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” Elrond frowned, Maglor noted he is still cautious and uncertain, his ears folded low. “Why do you insist on this?”

 

“Well, as I also said earlier, someone has to give you a little push, or no one else will.” Maglor persists, and Elrond could feel his face heat as he tries to keep his gaze steady against his. “I believe in second chances, if not for me, at least for you.” he reaches for his hand, and clasps it firmly with the other. “You deserve to be happy once again, _she_ would wish for it. Think about it.”

Maglor gave it a firm and reassuring squeeze, before withdrawing both hands away. He looks outside the windows, as a faint light starts to filter in. “I believe dawn draws near, I should check on Lindir if he is still sleeping, he could take the day off and rest it out the whole day in my room if he wanted to.”

He looked back at him, his expression fond “You should go back too. You will have guests to attend to tomorrow. I will take it from here.”

 

Elrond didn't ask Maglor if he is leaving again, knowing fully well from experience that he never stay too long enough for an overnight.

He knew, however this won't be the last he will persist on his personal assistant now that he have finally met him (and as much he would like to deny, have given him his stamp of approval). He would return soon, as Elrond discovered later the next day, the scrolls and tomes he took out and laid out on the table in his room contain copies of musical pieces perfect for practice.

 

And he never just leaves his lyre.

 

\--FIN--

  
  
  


   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some delays in communication in regards with the betaing so I tasked it upon myself to try nit-picking on it and upload the final chapter myself. I don’t want to make the wait two-week long :/ I (or the recipient!) might forget this exists.
> 
> The whole finished material will and still undergoing beta. 
> 
> Also a very anti-climatic ending XD but it promises more in the future, hopefully (more elrondir art to motivate pls). I am currently in the roll actively filling prompts in the “Merry is Maytime 2016” because..smut. It’s either I write fluff or smut, or both. Just those genres.
> 
> Also, Elrond’s ears all throughout arguing with Maglor probably.
> 
>  


End file.
